Jack

I can’t tell you how many times a storm’s run into me while exploring the Red Moons, but one I remember with the clarity of a black opal. It was the night I met Jack.

In this particular pore of hell, a rat trap called Linda’s Shady Station was the lone place to take shelter from winds strong enough to slice and dice a rover. Storms wash up the worst of us, and that night everyone in the place looked like they’d carve up my heart for fun and loot my pockets.

One of the foul scabs had booked the last room, so I buttered up some charm and asked the clerk to throw someone to the elements.

She scowled. “Have you asked a good fella to share?”

I raised a fist with every intention of getting my way per usual, and that’s when Jack interrupted me.

“I’ll share.”

Turning, I took one look at his calm smile and rolled my eyes. “Thanks, but I’d rather sleep in a wind tunnel.”

Shrugging, he tossed me a sleeve of jerky. “I’ll take a corner, and you can have the bed.” He walked off, and after a moment’s hesitation, I followed. Jerky’s been known to turn me into a kitten.

Vicious winds screamed and howled the whole night through, and we talked till dawn of our expeditions and exploits. We made plans to do business in the event we should meet again.

Standing over his casket, I wondered what might have been if our paths had ever crossed.